


Codependency

by Cavatica



Category: Animorphs (TV), Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Child Neglect, Depression, Emotional Abuse, Gen, Loss of Parent(s), PTSD, Parent Issues, Parent-Child Relationship, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 23:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8943490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cavatica/pseuds/Cavatica
Summary: Marco is coping with the early stages of the extreme trauma he’s faced, and the recent revelation of the identity of Visser One. His dad has turned the corner and wants to make things up to Marco, but Marco has to be free for the mission. He takes the most direct path to get Peter to leave him alone.Doesn’t conflict with the B&E series, but is a complete standalone. Canon-compliant, set during #9 The Secret.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LilacSolanum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacSolanum/gifts).



The bed was soft. His head wasn’t even on the pillow, he wasn’t even under the blanket. He’d just sort of collapsed on the edge of the bed. He lay there on his side, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. He knew if he actually went to sleep, he’d have the dreams. He wrapped his arms around the middle of his stomach. Still solid. Still whole. Better not to sleep. The bed was soft. That was enough.

Light drained out of the room and he felt himself being pulled away with it. Every time he was almost gone, though, he’d feel like he was falling -- so much more real and horrifying than before he’d actually fallen out of the sky -- so much worse to know that the only thing that saved him was not being human. Every time he’d jerk, and he’d be awake again. He looked at his hands, still human, still Marco. Some part of him berated himself that if he’d really been falling, he should morph. Slow reflexes would get him killed.

“You’re not really falling, stupid,” he muttered into his sheet. 

Marco was vaguely aware the hours had passed and he hadn’t moved. His right hip was kind of sore, but the feeling was far away. On a scale of one to “I’ve been bitten in half,” his leg falling asleep was having trouble registering. The thought that he maybe should do some homework was also pretty low on his list of priorities, considering Jake could call him at any time and tell him the next part of the plan was on and they needed to work even harder at getting themselves fried. Or tell him he had skunk duty, which was somehow even weirder.

The last week had been tiring. Marco hadn’t been up for another complete loss of control experience. Termites hadn’t been as bad as ants, at least not for Marco. He hadn’t expected Cassie to completely lose it. Especially since she was just freaked out about killing a bug. Marco kept it together, even through the complete annihilation of self, his body moving outside his control, the feeling of helplessness as something stronger than you directs your every move.

Her hair, her eyes, her voice, every movement and mannerism perfectly her, but not her. How close was being an ant or a termite to that? Did the worst few hours of Marco’s life even approach the torment his mother endured every second? For years? What gave Cassie the right to lose it? What had she even lost?

Marco’s throat burned, but he still didn’t move. Too tired. Too far away. Even the hot feeling of his throat twisting around when he thought of his mom was far away. Keeping everything at a distance, letting it all slide off, that was the only way he could still laugh about it while they were running. But he was so tired.

He heard the front door open and saw under the crack of his door that his dad turned on the lights. He’d been staying late at work. Marco didn’t know if it was still because of what Ax did to his program or if he was still trying to make up for the two bad years. Marco didn’t really care. Too tired.

Marco passively watched the shadow of his dad’s feet block out the light under his door. Marco saw him take a step as if to go to his own bedroom, then step back. Some shifting. Then he knocked twice, gently.

“Marco?” his dad said quietly as he cracked the door.

“Yeah?” Marco said. Still too much effort to move.

“Are you napping? Are you sick?” Peter asked. Marco couldn’t see his face against the backlight from the hall, but he saw his dad’s head tilt in worry. Maybe this whole fighting the Yeerks thing was easier when he had no functioning parents.

Marco pushed himself up and raked a hand through his hair. Tried to smile, maybe managed it. “No, Dad, this is just the cool new thing. All the teenagers are doing it. We call it ‘lying in bed, doing nothing.’ I know you’ve heard of it.”

Was that too close to a dig at his dad? It hadn’t been that long that he was doing better. It was too soon to joke about. _Marco, why can’t you ever shut up?_ His dad didn’t react, that he could see.

Peter crossed the short length of the room to sit next to Marco on his bed. For some reason, that made Marco’s skin crawl. He had a strong urge to edge away, give himself more space. Almost involuntarily, Marco crossed his arms, as if to create a barrier between himself and Peter.

“Hey, so, I know I’ve not been around much lately. I was thinking it might be kinda fun to take a couple days off, play a little hookie, maybe take a trip upstate?” Peter asked. Trying to be the cool dad. Great.

“Tomorrow’s Wednesday,” Marco pointed out.

“Yeah, that’s why it’s fun. Since when have you ever turned down skipping school?” 

“I have a lot of stuff to do.” _I have to figure out how to infiltrate some logging operation named the Yeerk word for ‘shit,’ somehow without dying, while moonlighting as a mother skunk. Can’t you see I’m busy?_ “We’re in the middle of a big… testing thing.”

“Okay.” Peter ran his hand through his thinning hair. “Next week?”

Was Peter really not going to let this go? Did Marco really have to _make_ him?

“Dad,” Marco said, lowering his voice. The serious voice he’d used when he couldn’t get his dad off the couch to take a shower. He saw the flash of recognition in Peter’s eyes. “You know going upstate was Mom’s thing, anyway.” 

Marco felt the air still between the two of them as both of them held their breath. 

Peter opened and shut his mouth. “We don’t have to go upstate. We can do our own thing. A new thing. We’re a team, right?”

_Get it over with, Marco._

Marco looked away, didn’t want to see his dad’s reaction to what he was about to say. “Dad. We’re only a team when you feel guilty. It didn’t feel like much of a team when I was forging your signature on the rent checks.” 

There was silence for less than a minute. Then Peter stood and made his way back to the door. He stalled in the doorway. “It’s okay that you said that,” Peter said quietly. “I know I’ve messed up.” 

Marco pressed his fists into his knees. His heart was pounding. His face was hot, but his fingers and toes were numb. _Just go, already._

Peter sighed. “You know, she would do that sometimes, too. Make it about me, when she didn’t want to talk about stuff. You remind me so much of her.”

Peter shut the door gently behind him.

Marco laid back down on his side, burying his face in the sheet.

 _Was_ it his mom that did that?

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda nice to write something short that's not tied into my main series and dig my claws back into my favorite topic again. I didn't ask anyone to beta this one, since it was just a quick little thing, so I apologize for any mistakes. Comments/kudos appreciated, as always.


End file.
